


We Can’t Rewind

by zorac



Series: Echo Park - an anthology [10]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Sacrifice Arcadia Bay Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 18:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11560455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorac/pseuds/zorac
Summary: Years after the tragedy of Arcadia Bay, Max and Chloe have built a new life for themselves in LA, but can they ever really escape the after-effects of the storm?





	We Can’t Rewind

It was exactly three years since the tornado destroyed Arcadia Bay. Thirty-six months. One thousand and ninety-six days. “Somehow, it still feels like yesterday,” whispered Max to the darkened room.

“Wha?” came the sleepy response from the head resting on her chest.

“The storm. That whole week.”

Chloe dragged herself fully into wakefulness, trying to figure out just how early it was. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“A couple of hours, maybe.”

“Damn, I thought I did a better job of tiring you out. I must be losing my touch.”

Max laughed, and Chloe felt the beginnings of relief. Hopefully it wasn’t going to be like either of the previous anniversaries. Max trailed a hand down Chloe’s back, and she shivered at the gentle caress. “Trust me. You’re most definitely _not_ losing your touch. You’re like a fine wine, just getting better with age.”

“Wait,” said Chloe, the darkness hiding her grin, “are you saying I was shit in bed to start with?” Max immediately flashed back to that first night together, in a seedy motel on the way up to Seattle; those desperate, life-affirming hours as they tried to forget the horrors they’d left behind.

“What? No, of course not! What I meant was…” Tipped off by Chloe’s sniggering that she was being teased, she dropped her voice into a lower register. “Oh, hell no!” she said in her best seductive tone. Chloe’s response was to slide up and kiss her, but it lacked passion and they soon separated.

“Sorry,” she said, rolling onto her back beside Max, “I guess my heart’s just not in it this morning.” She might not carry quite the same crushing weight of guilt that her girlfriend did, but the fact remained that she got to live when so many didn’t – not least her own mother. Chloe and Joyce might have had their issues towards the end, but she’d still been the only family she had left.

“That’s okay,” Max replied, “I’m not really in the mood either. Not today.” She stared up at the ceiling. “Every day I look back and wonder if I made the right decision.” Chloe’s breath caught for a moment before Max continued, “And every day I look at you and know that right and wrong don’t matter, because there isn’t any other choice I could bear to make.”

Chloe flushed in the darkness. “And I will never stop loving you for that, but you have to let the guilt go, Max. You can’t go on like this.”

“But it’s my fault all those people are dead!”

“You don’t know that! It’s just a guess that your powers caused the storm. You have no way of knowing that for sure. It’s just as likely that it’s the other way around.”

“I didn’t even try, though. I could have gone back and sacrificed you to see if it fixed the storm, and if it didn’t, gone back and saved you again. Instead, I chose to play god; save you, and to hell with everyone else.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m still trying to find a way to live with that.”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” They lay in silence for a few minutes before Chloe spoke again. “Is there anything you wanted to do today to… commemorate what happened?”

On the first anniversary, there had been a memorial service held at the ruins of Blackwell. As the only two survivors of the tragedy, Max and Chloe had come under intense scrutiny. No-one had actually said anything directly, but there had been a constant undercurrent of ‘why are you still alive when my child is dead?’ from an army of grieving parents. As tightly wound as she already was with self-blame, it had tipped Max over the edge; she’d been virtually catatonic for the entire drive back to Seattle.

By the second anniversary, they’d moved down to LA, chasing Rachel and Chloe’s dream. With the excuse that it was simply too far to go back to Arcadia Bay, they’d stayed at home. Chloe had carefully planned a series of activities to try and keep Max’s spirits up. It had been an unmitigated disaster; they ended up having a screaming row about what Max saw as Chloe ‘not caring’. They hadn’t said a civil word to each other for a week, and their relationship had been strained for months afterwards.

This year, they had no plans. Not wanting to risk anything which might make matters worse, Chloe had decided to simply follow Max’s lead and support her with whatever she wanted to do.

“I think I’d like to go to church,” replied Max at last.

“Okay, we can do that,” said Chloe. “Do you have a specific place in mind, or… do we just find one?”

“Nowhere in particular. I’ve been to a bunch of different churches over the last year or so.” Sensing Chloe’s surprise, she continued, “not for services, just… as a place to go. Somewhere quiet and peaceful; to remember, and to think. It helps keep me centered, stops the guilt from becoming too overwhelming.”

“Oh, Max. Why didn’t you say?” Chloe was trying hard not to get upset at her girlfriend.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” 

“Well, I’m worried now. Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from me?”

“No, just this, I promise. I need my own coping strategies; there’s only so much the shrink can do to help me. I can’t exactly tell her the truth about why I’m fucked up; that would go about as well for me as it did for Sarah Connor. She just has me pegged with a really bad case of survivor’s guilt, so that’s all she treats.”

“Isn’t that what it is, though?”

“You know damn well it isn’t. I didn’t just survive, I chose what happened.”

Chloe took deep breaths, calming herself. “I’m sorry, Max. I just… I hoped you were getting better.”

“I was… I am, but it’s going to take a long time, and I don’t think that I’m ever going to fully recover. I’m pretty sure that days like today are always going to hit me hard.”

Chloe turned and cuddled into Max. “I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. I guess that part of me wants back the Max I knew for those few brief days before the storm, or even the one who was my childhood friend – but they’re both gone forever, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are, just like blonde-haired Cap’n Chloe.”

Chloe sighed. “You’re right. Somehow, I need to accept that.” She paused. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been making things harder for you…”

“No,” Max cut her off, “you haven’t. There’s no way I’d be coping at all without you.” She reached up and pulled Chloe into a kiss. “You’re my anchor, the thing that keeps me stable. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“Okay,” said Chloe softly. After a few moments, she asked, “so, are there any other coping strategies I should know about?”

“Anonymity. First in Seattle, then even more so in LA, I’m just a face in the crowd. No-one knows who I am, or what happened to me, and that helps me to… if not forget, then at least put it out of mind.”

By then, the sunlight was filtering brightly around the edges of the bedroom window. After a couple of minutes, Chloe lay back and stretched. “We should get up. D’you mind if I grab first dibs on the shower?”

“Go for it,” replied Max, “I think I’ll just lie here a little while longer.”

Chloe had only been standing under the stream of hot water for a couple of minutes when Max slid in behind her. She smiled as she made room for her girlfriend. The smile broadened when she grabbed the shower gel, only to have Max pluck it from her hand. She sighed happily as hands roamed across her body, lathering it up.

“I’m sorry,” said Max as her hands lingered on Chloe’s chest. “I don’t mean to be such a downer, it’s just…”

“Don’t,” interrupted Chloe, turning round to face her. “You never need to apologize for feeling what you feel. I’m the one who should be sorry; I need to be more supportive…”

Max cut her off with a kiss. “No. No more ‘you.’ No more ‘me.’ _We_ can get through this. Together. I love you _so much_ , and I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

“I love you too,” replied Chloe, returning the kiss. “So, what’s the plan, Super-Max?” She snagged the bottle from her girlfriend and began soaping her up.

“Communication. Let’s be honest, we suck at it. Those five years where we never got in touch, what happened this time last year… and that’s just the big, obvious stuff. We just need to talk about things; no more secrets, no more trying spare each other’s feelings. Complete honesty about what we want and how we feel. It’s not going to be easy; we’re probably both going to hear things we don’t want to, and get into fights, but I truly believe that we can work our way through that and come out stronger.”

“Wow. That was one helluva speech, Max.” She ran her fingers up Max’s legs as she stood. “But if that’s what you think we need to do, then I’m game. Team Pricefield all the way – who the fuck else is going to understand either of us?” She turned the water back on, and they both began to rinse off.

A couple of hours later, they stepped out into the Monday morning sunshine. “So, where are we headed?” asked Chloe.

Max considered for a few moments. “There’s a church down south of the 101 that I’ve been to a couple of times before. It’s a bit of a hike, but I think I’d like to go there.” Not being any rush, they ambled slowly along, chatting amiably about their plans for the week. Max’s feet seemed to drag, and she walked ever more slowly as they approached the church.

“Are you okay?” asked Chloe as they came to a halt immediately in front of the imposing stone building.

“Yeah,” said Max eventually. “We should head inside.”

The interior of the church was beautiful – and utterly silent; it was late on a weekday morning, so there was nobody else inside. Chloe stared around for a few moments, but Max headed straight for one of the side chapels and she hurried after her. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Max started to whisper.

“Joyce,” she began. “Rachel. Kate.” She paused after each name. “Warren. Dana. Brooke. Alyssa. Juliet. Victoria. Courtney. Taylor. Stella. Sarah. Daniel. Evan. Trevor. Justin. Logan. Luke. Zachary. Hayden. Frank. David. Samuel. Ray. Michelle…”

By the time Max had finished her recital, they were both crying. Chloe put an arm around her shoulder, and they just stayed like that until they were interrupted by a deep voice.

“Excuse me. Are you two alright, do you need anything?” Chloe looked up to see an elderly priest standing by the entrance to the chapel. Sensing that Max wasn’t to up to talking, she took charge.

“No, thank-you. I think we’ll be fine.”

“May I ask what brings you here?” Chloe hesitated for a moment, but decided that avoiding the question, or even lying about it, would be a little too rude, even for her.

“Do you recall a few years back a freak tornado destroyed a costal town up in Oregon?” It had been big news at the time; the environmental lobby had made a lot of mileage out of it and finally won some victories against the climate skeptics – at least something good had come out of it, she supposed.

“Yes, I remember. A terrible tragedy.”

“It’s the third anniversary today… and we were the only two survivors.”

“I am so very sorry.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’ll leave you to your… contemplations, but if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open.”

“Thank-you,” said Chloe, “I appreciate that.” She was surprised to find that she actually did. Too used to empty platitudes, she found his genuine concern surprisingly moving. The priest nodded and walked away; Chloe returned to Max’s side. A few minutes later, she looked up at her.

“I think I’m ready to go home now.”

Chloe reached out to help Max up, and led her out of the church. She could sense that her girlfriend had something on her mind, but wasn’t yet ready to talk about it, so they walked home silently, hand in hand. The moment the front door of their apartment closed, Max turned to her and burst into tears. Chloe pulled her into a gentle hug and held her while she cried. Eventually, Max stepped back and pulled her across to the couch.

“There’s… something I need to tell you.”

“What is it, Max?”

“After the storm, I kept second-guessing my choices. What if I’d done something differently? Did all those people have to die?”

“I know, you’ve told me a bunch of times.” _Including this morning,_ she added silently.

“What I haven’t told you is that once, I actually tried to do something about it.” Chloe’s breath hitched, but she didn’t say anything. After a moment, Max continued. “It was right after the first anniversary, after seeing all those people at the memorial. I just… I couldn’t take the guilt away more. I might have torn up the Polaroid from the bathroom that morning, but I still had the selfie I took in Jeffershit’s class a few minutes earlier.”

She paused, until Chloe prompted her, “and…?”

“I took the photo out, focused on it, and… nothing. I tried doing a rewind, and that didn’t work either. At some point after the storm, my powers had just… gone away.”

“That’s good, right? No need to worry that you’re going to accidentally rewind and destroy Seattle – or Los Angeles.”

“Yeah, but now I’m stuck with the consequences of that choice. Forever.”

“Welcome to the human race,” said Chloe, sardonically.

Max sighed. “You’re right. So, are you mad at me? I kinda tried to kill you.”

Chloe shook her head. “You weren’t trying to kill me. You were trying to save Joyce, and Kate, and all those other people you named at the church – plus hundreds more you didn’t even know. I would just have been… collateral damage. More importantly,” she continued, her voice rising, “you’d just have been doing what I fucking told you to do three years ago!” Max took a step back, her eyes wide at Chloe’s sudden fury.

“You want to talk about survivor’s guilt? I’m a grade A nutcase right here. I didn’t survive through sheer dumb luck, I didn’t ask to be spared, you deliberately sacrificed a whole fucking town just to keep me alive!” Her anger burned out as quickly as it had started. “I’m not worth that,” she finished in a small voice, “nobody is.”

“You are,” said Max softly, “to me, you are.”

They both stood there unmoving for a few moments, and then suddenly they were in each other’s arms, crying and murmuring apologies, clinging together in shared grief and guilt. After several long minutes, they finally separated a little, each searching for reassurance in the other’s eyes.

“What now?” asked Max. “We can’t go on like this, haunted by the ghosts of Arcadia Bay.”

Chloe thought for a moment. “This is _our_ time. If we can’t rewind, if we can’t _change_ the past, then we have to accept it; we have to let it go.” There was a long pause. “What?” she asked, eyeing Max suspiciously.

“Sorry,” she replied with a crooked grin, “I was waiting to see if you were going to burst into song.” Ignoring Chloe’s eye-roll, she continued, “and you’re right. The past is in the past, we need to learn to leave it there; to focus on the here and now, on each other.” She slipped a hand behind Chloe’s head and pulled her into a kiss.

“Well,” said Chloe a couple of minutes later, “I have to say that I approve of this plan.”

Max laughed. “I love you, Chloe Price, even if you are a horn dog.”

“You love me _because_ I’m a horn dog…”

“Whatever,” interjected Max.

“…and I love _you_ beyond any reason.”

“Wow,” breathed Max as she pulled her in for another kiss, “sometimes you say the sweetest things.”

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” Chloe said at length.

“No, but nothing worthwhile ever is. We can do this, together.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Hope? Hope is all we need.”

**Author's Note:**

> Series notes: This, unsurprisingly, is the title that inspired the anthology and unleashed a horde of plot bunnies. The lyrics of the track seemed to fit with a significantly post-game Save the Bae fic, so that's what I went with. The line ‘just a face in the crowd’, combined with the album title, gave me (for the second time) the setting of a particular bit of LA…


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